Feeling rusty. Unedited writing exercise.
She lived with her vivid dreams.
Fantastic things that leapt from her consciousness. So vivid they were impossible to distinguish from reality.
Many were harmless. Her as Rapunzel, her hair falling like an inky rope down the side of the castle as she waited for her prince to come. Or the G forces pulling her body deep into her seat as the space shuttle cleared the atmosphere, carrying into the mystery of space.
Her dreams had taken an… Erotic turn lately.
It started after an accidental touch on the train. The press of the post-work crowd had her sandwiched between two men. One tall with curly black hair and piercing blue eyes, the other she couldn’t see but felt the flex of his muscles with each jolt of the train. She held the rail and waited for her stop.
One especially sharp turn had her wrapped around the blue eyed gentleman at her front and she felt the hand of the man behind her settle on her hip stopping him from crashing into her back. It was nothing. A few apologies and that was the end of it.
That night she found herself encased in a tawdry dream.
She stood with her arms bound above her head, the ropes tight about her wrists. The thwack of leather against flesh reached her ears before a sharp sting drew a gasp from her. Before her stood the man with the dark hair, his blue eyes blazing as he twirled the whip around in his hands.
“You’ve been a naughty girl, haven’t you?”
His voice was deep and smokey, wrapping around her like a caress, tightening her nipples to hard points. Her nudity registered just as the whip sailed through the air, the strings catching the tip of her nipple and forcing a hiss from her lips.
The pain arched through her, changing to a heat that settled between her thighs. “Oh, God.”
His smile was devilish, multiplying the heat she felt. “Just wait, it gets better.”
The dream held her in its grip, her body arching to take each strike until she was on the edge of cumming.
“Not yet.” The whispered words and hands on her hips made her squeak. “Not until I feel you wrapped around my cock.”
The other man… He gave her no warning before he lined up and surged into her open body.
His hands tightened to bruising around her waist as he took her from behind, and from the front the whip continued to redden every inch of her available skin.
The mingling of slapping flesh and her cries reached a fevered height. She wanted to come, needed it as the intensity of the moment twisted her body up.
“Please,” she cried out. “Oh, God…”
And just as she crested, her alarm jolted her awake. The dream disintegrated, stealing her orgasm with it.
She lay dazed, her body throbbing so intensely that touched her chest to make sure there were no welts. Her fingers strayed between her thighs, brushing wet and engorged flesh.
The blare of the alarm stopped her from finishing what her dream had started. She gave a frustrated sigh and rolled out of bed.
Haha! That was good!
I laugh because I appreciate the realism of the feeling that happens to so many of us – that involuntary kind of moment in the mundane day-to-day that just happens to spark something in the back of our animal instinct for no clear reason. That just stays in our mind and toys with us at random moments.
And fantastic (if a teeny bit excellently frustrating) choice to leave her cliff-hanging, yet another thing that I find happens far to often with dreams, erotic or otherwise.
God bless our lizard brains. That’s why erotica does so well.
My dreams routinely end before the… Climax. Nothing frustrates me more at times. Except not knowing the Prince Charming I’m kissing in my dream.